by C. M. Owens
Fucking adorable. I can't help but burst out laughing, but when she cuts her eyes toward me, I pull my hand up to smother the roar.
"Raya, you seriously have to learn to relax," I say through my more restrained laughter.
She sighs as she glances ahead at something, and I lean back again, resting my hands behind my head. So much better. Now that I know I'm not going to be shot at or something, I can relax. She's just worried about getting embarrassed. I'm looking forward to having new material to tease her with.
I pray her mother has the most humiliating pictures of her there ever was.
I'm not sure if this is a road or a trail we just turned down, but it's definitely not very well kept. Not that it matters.
Gravel crunches under the tires as she parks beside a tired trailer, one that seems to have had much better days. In my life, I've had all the nicest things, and I expected even more than I got. I've never felt more like a spoiled brat than I do right now. It almost makes me want to call and apologize for my embarrassing tantrums in the past.
I make a conscious effort not to react, because Raya will take it wrong. No wonder she's unsure around money. She's had less than I realized. It makes me want to work that much harder to give her nicer things, and I'll make sure her stubborn ass starts taking the shit I want her to have.
My Range Rover looks obnoxious, and I suddenly wish I had rented a different vehicle. I really don't want them hating me the way Raya did in the beginning. I pray they like wine.
"This is it," she murmurs timidly, seeming to dread my reaction. Has she no faith in me? It's obvious I'll have to prove myself.
I'd like to reassure her that there's nothing wrong with it, but it'd sound condescending. Instead, I elect to act as though it's no different than rolling up at our house. She's so terrified I'll look down on her. She doesn't know how wrapped around her finger I am.
"I'll grab the bags. You can head on in," I say, climbing out of the passenger side.
A kid rides by on a bike, his mouth agape when he stares at my Range Rover, and I wave, trying to seem friendly and not at all like the rich prick they'll all most likely think I am.
Raya gets out of the car, still watching me like I'm about to shatter her at any second. All I want to do is pin her down and kiss the hell out of her, prove to her that I don't give a damn where she came from.
I don't look around much, worried she'll misconstrue any expression for something it isn't. She shivers a little. As much as I love her legs, she needs them covered up here. It's too cold.
"You okay?" she asks, her eyes still warily on me.
"Yeah, why?" I ask, sounding genuinely perplexed by the question, even though I know exactly what she means.
I grab our bags, letting her watch me as much as she needs to.
"Primp much?" she says at last, pointing to the luggage.
I knew she was going to say something about me bringing two bags, and I knew she'd object if I told her beforehand what's in the second bag.
I just laugh, feeling better now that she's back to teasing me.
"One of my bags has a nice wine selection. There's a chiller built in to keep it the perfect drinking temperature. I started to bring a decanter, but I thought that might come off as a little pretentious."
I hope that didn't sound as smug as I think it did. Shit.
"Pretentious? No. We always decant our boxes of wine," she deadpans, making me think that over.
Decanting a box of wine?
I look over at her in time to see her smile edging up. Ah. She was joking and making fun of me. Got it. We're in her environment now, and I'm sure I'll catch a little hell. I'm loving it already.
I laugh while shaking my head, feeling like a bit of a gullible idiot.
"You really shouldn't have brought wine," she says more seriously.
I knew that was coming.
"I'm a guest. It's customary for the guest to bring the hosts a gift. I always bring wine. It's easy, and it's always a big hit," I reply while shrugging. I won't tell her I knew I'd need to suck up.
"Yeah, but my family isn't going to know the difference between the service station wine and the ungodly priced stuff you're probably carrying around. My stepbrother drinks the stuff right out of the bottle. Just... I don't know... We'll grab a pie tomorrow for you to give them."
She's so damn cute. She has no idea. Well, I'll surprise her with my secret soon. I've never wanted to take a girl to the vineyard, but Raya is the exception to that. I can't wait to take her.
"They can guzzle my wine. I promise, it's fine."
She starts to say something, but an ear-piercing squeal interrupts whatever objection Raya had. The source of the squealing is an attractive woman who's running down a porch that I'm worried might collapse. She grabs Raya, jolting her forward in an embrace that has to be painful, and I watch, fascinated.
I never pictured Raya's family to be so affectionate. I've never been big on getting touched. I make an exception for Granddad usually.
Then Raya came around, and I can't stop touching her. I feel like something's missing when we're not touching.
"Finally! I've missed you so much!" her mother says with an excited pitch.
"I've missed you, too," Raya chuckles, making my whole body warm.
I love that smile, that sound, that look of belonging. She's relaxed here. I want to make her that relaxed all the time.
I want to see her face, so I step to be in front of her. I regret that instantly. Damn she looks too perfect with that smile. Now I want to see that smile all the time. This girl could break an army and she doesn't even know it. She also doesn't know that she's already mine.
"And who the hell is this prime piece of perfection?" her mother asks, surprising me with her bluntness as she rakes her eyes over me, slowly taking in every inch.
Maybe the wine won't be necessary after all.
Raya's eyes mimic the motion, and I stand there to let them both appraise me. I'll let Raya look all day if she wants to. This is the first time she's ever openly acted this interested. I knew this weekend was a good idea.
"Kade Colton," I say when Raya shivers, reminding me she out here in shorts and I need to get her in. I extend my hand in offering.
"Handshakes are for strangers. If you're coming home with my girl, then you're family."
Her mother knocks my hand away as she pushes her bountiful chest against me and embraces me. This is uncomfortable, because affection isn't my thing, but I'm thrilled to know I'm already liked. It takes a hell of a lot of pressure off me.
So I return the awkward embrace with my free hand while she lingers. Raya covers her smile, probably seeing how unrehearsed I am with strangers hugging me, and then she comes to tug her mother off me.
"Don't maul the guest. Let's go in."
Her mother almost pouts as she lets me go, but it's mostly because she's enjoying teasing Raya. I follow behind them as they reach the top of the small, hazardous porch, but then some beast of a man steps into the doorway.
I really hope that's not her overprotective brother.
Considering his militant stance and appearance, along with his muscles and tattoos that scream badass, I'm assuming it is. Maybe he won't kill me this weekend, because I'm not keeping my hands off Raya if she gives me an opening.
"It's about damn time," he says with a grin as he picks her up in a very wince-worthy embrace.
She wheezes, and I fight to keep back, reminding myself how many times she's talked about the fact her brother loves her. Then I see her tap his shoulder three times. Wait? Did she just tap out?
"Damn. Lay off the steroids," she gripes while he puts her down, letting her airflow return. I relax from the tense stance I didn't even realize I had taken.
He chuckles loudly, and then he shakes his head. "Pure and solid, baby sister. Pure and fucking solid."
The second his eyes find mine, his look of softness turns to a murderous glare. Yeah, he's going to kill me if I touch Raya. At lea
st I'll die happy.
"Who's pretty boy?" he asks, the venom in his tone promising me a weekend of pain if I give him one excuse.
Pretty boy. He has no idea about me. It's probably stupid, but I grin. I fight it, but I know it's there.
"This is Kade, my... friend?" she says, making it sound like a question while sounding unsure. "Play nice, Josh."
Friend for now.
"I'll play," he threatens, making no attempt to veil his intentions.
I usually prefer bluntness, but he's actually a little scary. He makes Brock look small, and Brock is—well, was—the biggest guy I know. I've kicked his ass before, so maybe I could hold my own against Josh if necessary.
The beast moves when Raya pushes him, but I know damn well she didn't have the strength to move him without his permission. At least he has a very soft spot for her.
Her eyes move to me as I duck to come in, and I grin at the man lounging in the recliner, subconsciously holding his beer even while he snores. The trailer is small, very small. And the low ceilings have even lower ceiling fans. This could pose a problem.
When I turn around and see the look Raya is giving me, I decide any concussion I might receive from a vicious fan will be well worth it.
"Yes, dear," her stepfather says in his sleep, still clutching a beer can.
The others don't even seem to acknowledge it. It's comical, really, though I have no idea what a woman who looks like her mother is doing with someone who sleeps the day away when he's not at work. Then again, I've never done a lot of manual labor. I'm sure it's exhausting.
"Are you okay?" Ginger, Josh's wife, asks me. "Do you need anything?"
Raya's eyes cut toward me apologetically. I give her a wink, still finding humor in it, even though it should be at the point of annoying by now.
"I'm fine, thank you," I say as graciously as possible, mentally patting myself on the back for not laughing out loud.
Wrapping my arm around Raya's shoulders, I pull her to me, needing to feel her closer before we're forced to separate and go into different rooms. I'm so exhausted, and I doubt I'll sleep much knowing her brother is just down the hall.
I've been hoping he'd hurry up and drink all the wine so he'd be too drunk to do anything more than pass out for at least twelve hours.
"I'm ready to crash," I finally say, yawning for emphasis.
"Me, too. I'll show you the guestroom," Raya says, seeming distracted as she has a silent conversation with her grinning mother.
"Actually, Raya," her mother says with an enigmatic smile, "the guestroom is packed full with some of your brother's friend's things. He needed a place to store some stuff while he moved into a new home. Kade will have to share your room tonight. Your bed is plenty big enough."
Fuck yes.
Her brother coughs and sputters wine everywhere, reminding me he's in the room. Fuck no. Please, God, let him get too drunk to walk.
"You're kidding me!" he yells, his eyes trained on his stepmother.
Yeah... I should have brought a wheelchair. Or at least a pair of crutches.
"Absolutely not. Clean that up," she scolds, looking like she's ready to slap Josh upside the head. Then her smile returns as she faces me. "Unless you're uncomfortable staying in the room with my daughter, of course. I could ask one of the neighbors to put you up."
Ah, so she's playing this game. I'm far from uncomfortable about staying with her daughter.
Raya's glare is adorable as she screams at her mother with nothing but her eyes. I hold back as much of my laughter as possible, though some creeps out.
"I'll be fine in Raya's room. She doesn't usually bite," I tease, ignoring the promise of death her brother is silently giving me.
I wink at her, and then revel in the sight of her footing faltering. When her eyes go to my lips, my pants get tighter. I need my track pants. Now.
"Raya?" I prompt, needing her to stop staring at my lips and making my erection grow in front of her whole family. "Want to show me where to find your room?"
Yeah. Fully hard and painful now. I shouldn't have asked that question. Too many images just sprawled out in my mind.
"Yeah, come on," she mumbles after a sharp breath, turning toward the hallway.
I grab our bags, intentionally leaving behind the wine in hopes Josh will finish it all off on his own. A drunken coma promises me a night of sleep.
But Raya foils my plans by grabbing it up. She casts an accusatory glare toward her brother, before moving her eyes back to me with a softer look.
"He's an animal."
Josh throws his hands up, clearly offended, and I can't help but laugh. Because I stop myself, I move my hand to the small of her back, needing to be closer.
"I can sleep on the floor, Raya," I whisper, noting how tense she is.
I was really hoping she would be more susceptible to this—us—by now, but her body language clearly states otherwise. No doubt I could have her if I turned on my charm at full blast, but I'd never be able to keep her if I rushed it.
She pauses as she processes the out I just gave her, but I see it in her eyes what she's going to say, and I'm going to be in pain by the morning.
"No. It's fine. We've shared a bed before."
I pull my shirt off, needing to see her eyes on me, but I play it casual. Maybe I can get her to fold if she has to endure her weakness, which seems to be my body.
She shuts the door, leans against it, and just watches. I'm tempted to pull my pants down, carry on as though her eyes on me aren't noticed, but the damn hard-on I have would excite her or send her running. I'm not chancing the latter of the two.
This is deja-vu Déjà vu . It's my room all over again... with a much smaller bed.
I stare at her, not even bothering to hide my amusement as her gaze feasts on me.
"Right. I should go change," she says suddenly, realizing what she's been doing, and then she drops to her knees to grab clothes from her bag.
I try not to laugh, but it's impossible. The red stain on her cheeks is always adorable, but she's getting closer to giving me what I want. Shaking my head, I take my time finding my pants.
Just as I drop my jeans, Raya comes crashing back through the door, slamming it behind her. Then her eyes go down to my crotch. And shit. She sees it. Has to.
She doesn't run. She doesn't attack me either, much to my dismay. But she doesn't run.
"I thought you'd be longer," I say while grinning, angling my body to hide the tent while slowly sliding my pants on.
"Sorry," she says, slapping her hands over her eyes. "It's dangerous out there right now."
I laugh, confused by that. Did she have ulterior motives? Her eyes are scrunched shut with her hands over them, so she must have chickened out.
I decide to climb on the bed, watching her tense when it squeaks. Dangerous out there? That's the worst excuse I've ever heard.
She slowly removes her hands, her eyes on me, but she makes no attempt to advance. So I play along.
"You can change in here... since it's dangerous. I'll head out," I mock, sliding off the bed.
I walk close to her, letting my body become something she can't avoid looking at, and open the door. Weird noises paint the hallway. What the hell is going on? Is that a moan?
It sounds like my house after the Wet Game. Then it all clicks, and I burst out laughing while shutting the door as quickly as possible, my laughter rolling out in heaves.
"Damn. They work quick," I joke, relishing how mortified she is right now.
"Don't talk about it. I'll puke."
My roaring amusement only continues harder as I drop to the bed. "I'll close my eyes."
I shut my eyes, but I feel her gaze on me. And I might peek when I hear her shuffling out of her clothes. I never told her I wouldn't peek.
I shouldn't have peeked. This is going to be a long night now that I've had a glimpse of what rests beneath the clothes. Damn.
She screams my name as I find that spot of no return. My to
ngue is owning her and she's riding it like it may disappear if she stops. I can't take it any longer, though, so I jerk my pants down, ready to be inside her.
Just as I'm about to surge in, it all fades as two moans sound out in unison, one becoming breathy. It takes me a second, but my eyes snap open to meet hers as I feel the soft flesh beneath my firm grip. Another fucking dream, and I'm groping her again!
I scramble backward, wishing I had handcuffed myself last night. But I make the mistake of forgetting how small this bed is.
One second I'm on a bed, then next second I'm Wylie Coyote trying to run on air as gravity jerks me down. My elbow slams into the unstable nightstand, taking it with me.
A grunt is forced from my lips as I hit the ground, decimating the last of my masculinity. An assortment of blunt, hard objects pound against me. Worst. Morning. Ever.
"You okay?" she asks, seeming angry.
That's the second time I've woken up with my hands all over her. No way is she ever going to trust me if I can't get my shit together.
"Yeah," I groan, then I curse when some of her pictures that fell start falling out of my lap and clambering to the floor. "I'll clean that up. I need... I need a smoke," I stammer, making an even bigger idiot out of myself.
I grab the pack and lighter from my bag and haul ass out of there, desperate to get my nerves under control. I don't even acknowledge the ungodly sounds coming from her brother's room as I dart outside, needing that cold air for so many reasons.
I'm not about to talk to my father. I need to call Wren and ask him if he made a complete ass of himself when he was trying to get close to Erica. Because right now, this isn't looking too good for me.
I can't stop thinking about Raya in pigtails. She was adorable as a kid. Her mother seemed to really enjoy breaking out every old photo she could find, even mentioned she never got to do that. Not that I didn't already figure that out, based on what Raya has told me—one boyfriend ever.